


Gingerflesh

by AsYouCommand (OminousHummingObelisk)



Series: Kibble & Bits & Bits & Bits [3]
Category: Gingerbread - Fandom
Genre: Ego Erosion, Eldritch Abominations, Eroticized Landscape, Existential Horror, Flagrant Misuse of Daoism, Mention of Autocannibalism, Negative Enlightenment, Other, Questions We Must All Someday Answer But are Afraid to Ask, Surprising Applications of Buddhist Thought, Vague Giger-y Elements, gingerbread, mention of incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 19:46:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11387121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OminousHummingObelisk/pseuds/AsYouCommand
Summary: In which an individual, finding himself alone before the universe, realizes the insubstantiality of the boundaries between the Self and All Else.





	Gingerflesh

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from an image posted by a deactivated Tumblr; [reblogged from here](http://wolffyluna.tumblr.com/post/157868458440).
>
>>   
> ((Four-panel comic depicting a gingerbread man sitting in a gingerbread house. Is the house made of flesh, or is he made of house?))

It’s like a mega-kawaii version of those erotic Giger landscapes in which everything is made of meat and flows together until the people and their environment are indistinguishable from each other. A gingerbread man in a gingerbread house is an obtuse representation of unbirthing - the fetishized craving for a literal return to the womb. Perhaps he was cut from the same flattened patch of dough as his prison/shelter/devouring mate-landscape. He must live with the knowledge that he and his surroundings share identical “DNA” - the same recipe, same ingredients, same cooking time in the same oven, same icing piped from the same bag. Perhaps he fears the all-encompassing cookie-landscape because of an incest taboo, and yet he feels his separateness dissolving, a flimsy and artificial construct of his mind. Everything is the same; only difference is illusory.

It would be so easy to be welcomed back into the undifferentiated mass, to blend into the gingerbread house as one more part of its scenery instead of living as a falsely independent creature. Vaguely, he yearns for the primordial mixing bowl, the moist and uncarved block, when all things had not yet been split apart. He remembers that oneness in the roots of his cookie-flesh. Is the horror in his inescapable, eventual surrender to his home’s stomach-like dissolving of his self, or in a future that is nothing but eternal loneliness, severed from his world?


End file.
